


Curiosity

by Trash



Category: Linkin Park
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-09-07
Updated: 2009-09-07
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the worst day of Chester Bennington's life and, as his curiosity gets the better of him, it is only going to get worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity

His car breaks down on the outskirts of town and he slams the heel of his hand hard into the steering wheel. “Mother fucker!” He screams, slamming is hand into the horn over and over.

This is the worst day of Chester Bennington’s life.

The new album is well under way but being in the studio every day is starting to take its toll. He’s tired all the damn time. Snappy too, even when people haven’t done anything to piss him off he snaps at them.

Today had just been another one of those days. The Houdini House was the longest drive for him than any other member of the band but he just did it, knew that releasing a great album, touring with it, all of that made the hour drive worth it.

He was late, as usual, and when he got there Mike made him record the same damn song over and over again.

“Just that one line,” Mike says over the intercom, “I just think it needs to be an octave higher.”

Chester grits his teeth and glares into the control room, “Are you fucking kidding?”

“No I really think it’d sound better,” he says and throws in a “I just want to produce the best album we can, here,” for good guilt-tripping measure.

Mike should never have been made a producer. Chester feels like he spent plenty time straddling his ridiculous ego when he wasn’t getting a different credit on the CD case.

And now, after singing “Six feet under water” over and over and fucking over for nigh on twelve hours, his car has broken down in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

He gets out after a while and locks the car after him, starting the walk along the country path toward town. He hates it out here, the way they’re trying to build houses and start up a little village like it’ll ever be anything more than waste ground where the abattoir used to be.

And old, high, concrete wall that used to be the boundary of the abattoir is what the workmen are using to hide their slow construction work and, as Chester passes it, he hears voices shouting.

It’s late, so he knows it isn’t anybody being paid to be there. The voices get louder and louder, a crescendo of chanting that sounds like a riot. Eventually the voices become clearer and Chester can hear what they’re saying.

“Twenty nine! Twenty nine! Twenty nine! Twenty nine!” The voices chant repeatedly.

“What the fuck?”

The wall is too high for Chester to see over, way too high, but as he draws closer to it he sees a hole worn all the way through. He presses his eye to it, squinting and trying to make out the people on the other side.

He doesn’t know what happens, but a knife stabs through the hole and straight into the back of Chester’s skull, killing him in seconds. The knife is withdrawn and the voices start chanting again.

“Thirty! Thirty! Thirty! Thirty!”


End file.
